


Let's be Alone Together; We Can Stay Young Forever

by Throw Me in a Wormhole (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)



Series: Sheith Week 2016 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Recovery, Sheith Week 2016, Sheith Week 2016: Together/Alone, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:58:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Throw%20Me%20in%20a%20Wormhole
Summary: The Galra captured Keith as he attempted a banned solo mission to save Pidge's family, and now, he's stuck alone in a cell. Alone, he's not sure if he'd want Shiro with him, or if he hates himself for wishing Shiro could be there. Torture tag for insinuated torture - freezing room temperature





	

The Galra prison cells were freezing. The cold metal floor pressed through the thin fabric of the black shirt Keith wore, making him shiver. His breath could be seen in front of his mouth as he exhaled, small pockets of would be warmth – yet Keith couldn’t get hold of them to even try to warm his hands. His fingers were unable to be bent, and he couldn’t feel the tip when he applied pressure. He whimpered a little, a sound that seemed too loud in the tiny cell he was captive in.  
  
The Galra wouldn’t allow the Paladin the comfort of other prisoners; they were people he could talk to. They could formulate a plan with the Paladin, make an escape and sufficiently damage the Galra. _Again_.  
  
No, no, the Galra couldn’t allow that.  
  
That was why Keith was currently laying on the cold, sleek metal floor of the prison cell, shivering. His uniform and weapons had been stripped from him, leaving him at mercy to the conditions of the cell – conditions which had purposely been dropping since the second they put him inside. Cold, yearning for warmth and contact with an ally, with no back up – the Paladin would soon fall to their mind tricks and tell them what they wanted to know.  
  
Primarily, it was where he had left the Red Lion before boarding the on land Galra ship to rescue two human prisoners from years ago. They’d caught him when he set a booby trap off, and he’d fought – valiantly, they agreed – but not good enough to prevent himself from being overwhelmed.  
  
Keith stared at the wall, wrapping his arms around himself. He started rubbing the bare skin that his training shirt showed off – almost the entirety of his arm, save for the top of his shoulders. The friction would bring warmth, but Keith couldn’t feel it, and his arms hurt too much to be able to rub for longer than a few seconds at a time.  
  
_Blow on your hands. You might risk frost bite, but it’s easier to warm yourself up._  
  
Keith did as his internal monologue told him, wincing at the sudden temperature change on his fingers, tears pricking up as he continued to blow before rubbing his arms. There was a small change of temperature and the young male was grateful. He kept going until his arms felt slightly more human before forcing himself to sit up.  
  
It was a struggle; the cold was numbing his senses and his brain was telling him to just go to sleep – something which his survival instincts were screaming at him not to do.  
  
_Get up, jog on the spot; do something, anything to get your heart pumping, your blood flowing and your brain to wake up._  
  
He started pacing around the cell, pushing on the walls, on the door. He received shocks that severely injured him, making him cry out and tears to fall down his cheeks. He pushed and pushed, his muscles screaming in agony as they begged not to be used in the intense cold. His feet were so numb, Keith couldn’t tell if he were taking steps or if he were frozen to the spot.  
  
It took time, but he eventually managed to pace around the relatively small cell and then he crumpled in a corner. The door was glass; complete, allowing for the guards to watch him suffer as the temperature dropped even more.  
  
He shivered in the cold air, tears freezing the skin beneath them as he took harsh breaths. He couldn’t keep this up. His body was starting to succumb to the cold. It ached and it hurt, but at the same time, Keith felt nothing. He was completely numb, emotionally and physically.  
  
His survival instincts were screaming at him to get up, to do anything he could do to get out, even trying to muster up happy memories of Shiro; the way they’d cuddle in bed when it got cold – and it made Keith feel even colder.  
  
Shiro wasn’t here. He wasn’t here to cuddle to. He wasn’t hear to make him warm because he had refused to go on the mission with Keith. In fact, he’d forbidden it as team leader, _it’s too risky. The Galra will know we’ll come for Pidge’s family. They’ll know that and they’ll be prepared. It’s a trap, and_ _ **no one**_ _on this team is doing it._  
  
Oh how Keith wished he had listened, as he hugged his knees to his chest, trying to stop his teeth chattering as his eyesight began to bleed into black. He just wanted to be in the Palace; maybe he would be training with Shiro, or maybe they’d be cuddled in bed reading different books together. Maybe they’d be having one of Keith’s Japanese lessons, with Shiro laughing so hard he ran out of breath at Keith’s terrible at first pronunciations.  
  
Keith smiled momentarily before sobbing into his knees, realising this was it. This was how the Red Paladin of Voltron would fall to the hands of the enemy. Frozen to death so slowly his body started to shut down.  
  
No, no; they wouldn’t kill him. They wanted information. The killing would come after they tortured his freezing body; they’d prod him with hot objects, maybe twisted metal, held in the flames for a while. He’d scream and eventually give up the information that they wanted before they sent him to be killed.  
  
Keith snorted as he sobbed, thinking how much different this situation would be if Shiro were there. It wasn’t being tortured, being interrogated and then being killed that scared Keith. Well, they did, but the thing that scared him the most was that he was _alone_.  
  
It was selfish to wish it, to wish that Shiro was there, being slowly frozen and tortured; even if he were just in a cell opposite him. It was selfish and Keith hated himself for it. He hated himself for wishing this pain on his _boyfriend_. He wouldn’t wish this on his worst enemy, and wishing it on his boyfriend just felt so _wrong_ , but he was so _alone_.  
  
He just wanted to see Shiro’s face one last time; the determined sparkle in his eye as he went in for a mission, arm glowing purple as he attacked the bad guys. He wanted to see the gentle smile, the one where his lips turned up in the corners, but Keith saw the wrinkles around his eyes; the genuine smile flashed just for him. He wanted to hear his laugh one more time, when an exhausted Keith absolutely butchered a Japanese word because he just woke up – or was just about to fall asleep – and then gently correct him, making sure not to be condescending about it.  
  
The glass door to his cell slid open, and two guards stood outside, smirking at him. Keith knew he must look a sight.  
  
The great Red Paladin, crying, shivering, barely able to stay awake.  
  
Just as the guards started walking towards him, and just before the darkness finally enveloped him; Keith could have sworn he saw the distinctive, determined glint of Shiro’s eyes behind the first guard.  
  
And then, there was nothing.

 

-xox-

 

There was something on his face. That was the first thing that Keith registered as he slowly came back to consciousness. It wasn’t heavy, but the slight placement of the thing came as a shock, and it became uncomfortable quickly. There was a gas blowing on his face and Keith tried to move his hands to rip it off before the Galra could knock him back out – or worse – when he realised his arms were strapped to the sides of the table.  
  
The table was cold, he could feel the metal through the… _blanket_ underneath him. It was smooth; felt like that weird silk that they slept under. No, wait, there was another blanket on top of him. He shifted, and a soft crackle filled his hearing, reminding him of the time his Mother would make a turkey roast at Christmas, or maybe a chicken Sunday roast when the whole family had time to sit for a meal.  
  
There was a warm smell in the air, like the smell of the mess hall on the Palace when they first woke up on Sunday – their one rest day from training. It was sweet, and Keith felt his stomach growl.  
  
The sound of laughter drifted to his hearing, and he listened. It sounded like… like _Pidge_. But what was Pidge doing on the _Galra_ ship? And what was he doing _laughing_?  
  
Keith was nervous. Maybe the gas on his face was some form of halluciogenic drug, made to make him lose his grip on sanity, and he held his breath. After only a few seconds, he had to gasp and take the gas in… only to find it was oxygen.  
  
There was beeping near him, right next to him, almost. It sounded like the sounds of a heart machine. Were the Galra keeping him to run test experiments on him? Was that something that they did?  
  
Judging from Shiro’s arm, it was definitely possible.  
  
Quickly, he moved both arms, his legs, his feet and then his hands as much as he could against the straps keeping him down. They all felt normal; they all felt _human_.  
  
It was then he became all too aware of a hand in his, a _metal_ hand and the soft sound of someone starting to groan as they woke up. Keith’s mind went into overload because he _knew_ that groan. It was the groan Shiro made when they first woke up and Keith jumped on him, straddling and laughing; he was fully awake whereas Shiro needed seven hours to get up on a Sunday. It was the groan that Shiro made when he was almost asleep, arm around Keith, and Keith would scramble free to get up and go to the toilet – or go do whatever he fancied.  
  
It was the groan Shiro only made around _Keith_ and it didn’t make any sense.  
  
“Good morning, Keith-san.”  
  
The Japanese term of endearment made Keith’s heart scream, made him almost smile under the mask, but his body still seemed to be almost frozen.  
  
“Come on, Keith.” Shiro sounded close to tears, and Keith wanted to scream out. “I know you’re going to wake up soon. That was a horrendous thing they pulled… We were so lucky to get you out when we did… A few more minutes and your body would have shut down from cold.”  
  
Keith struggled. He _had_ seen Shiro’s determined glint as he passed out. His team had come to save him, had got him out.  
  
It made sense now. He was in the Palace; they were probably flying, hence being strapped to the bed – they were warming him up. The crinkle was some form of tin foil, or some strange material similar to it; the foil would help him preserve his body heat.  
  
A tear started to track down his face, sliding down the side to drip uncomfortably into his ear.  
  
“K-Keith? Keith-san?”  
  
_I’m here! I’m awake! I can hear you!_  
  
He tried to open his mouth; he tried to scream it for Shiro, for the Paladins, and the whole universe to hear, but his muscles wouldn’t move.  
  
“Keith, are you awake?”  
  
_Yes! Yes, Shiro I’m here._  
  
“Can you open your eyes for me?”  
  
Keith struggled. He tried and tried but nothing happened and he wanted to punch something in frustration.  
  
“Can you lick your lips? Blink? Tilt your head?”  
  
Keith tried and tried and tried but nothing happened; he got frustrated more and more with each failed attempt.  
  
“Can you squeeze my hand? Come on, I know you can hear me; I know that you’re trying. I know you’re in there, Keith. Let me know you’re alive, Keith-san.”  
  
He squeezed, ever so slightly but there was pressure exerted on Shiro’s hand, and Keith heard the sharp intake of breath from the left.  
  
“Keith- Keith, oh my god. Can you do it again? Maybe stronger? Don’t push yourself too hard but please try.”  
  
Keith tried and tried again, eventually managing to exert enough pressure on Shiro’s hand for him to be sure it hadn’t been a fluke, or his muscles spasming.  
  
“Keith...”  
  
The Red Paladin could hear the smile on the other’s face, could hear the joy in his eyes and couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly under the mask.  
  
Shiro didn’t say anymore, but he didn’t leave Keith’s bedside.  
  
Even if the blackness that Keith was stuck in was lonely, he still had Shiro, sitting next to him.  
  
Their hands were entwined; they were together.  
  
And being together was much better than being alone.


End file.
